[squirrellypoo]

Ugh, not a great Easter emotionally. My fellow summer transplant friend, David, passed away yesterday at 11am. His widow (god, she's far far too young to be a widow) texted me to tell me the news and handle some immigration research for her, which isn't looking grea for hert. Because of a weird quirk in timing, there's a high chance she may have to leave the country in 28 days, or at best, hire an immigration lawyer to fight her corner, which just isn't what the poor girl needs right now.

So after helping her out all day, I found out last night that the neighbour's very, very loved cat that went missing three weeks ago was found dead. He was so full of personality and was utterly best friends with our cat (they'd play hide & seek and leapfrog together it was TOO cute), and as much a part of the family to his family as our cat is to us, and I just know how broken up they are about it.

So not a good Easter, all told. It was good to wake up early and get a run in this morning to get some of the stress out. The only good thing I've got to report is that this week is the first week in about 18 months (since my diagnosis, anyway) that I won't have to go to hospital at all. Not once! So that's a nice feeling.